Chapter 27
“You need me,” said Hannah, grabbing Cowboy’s jumper.
There was nowhere to land the plane and he was going to parachute down.
It was already getting dark, her mind so confused by the passage of time she no longer knew what day it was.
All she knew was she needed to get down on the ground and help find her son.
“I know the building. I know where the condo is. I can get you to the hospital, to where I live. All of it.”
“It isn’t safe for you to come with me.”
“I don’t give a shit if it’s safe! My baby is down there. He’s got to be scared. He’s the one who isn’t safe. You have to let me come with you.”
The very idea of what she was suggesting was ludicrous and she knew it. She wanted him to let her jump out of an airplane when she could barely tolerate the idea of air travel. But she would have swum through a lake-sized vat of lava if Brady was on the other side.
“I can’t protect you, Hannah. You’re a liability. You’ll only slow me down.”
She had to do something, had to find some way to convince him.
“The letter my husband wrote was addressed to three people. Joe knew one of them knew about the drug smuggling ring—was probably even in charge of it. Eric Manning was one of those three, but he insisted up until his death that he only allowed it to happen, he wasn’t in charge. ”
“Which leaves two,” said Cowboy.
“I know them both. Their names, their addresses. I worked with them for years.”
“Tell me.”
“Not unless you take me with you.”
“Fuck.” He shook his head. “This is a very dangerous game you’re playing.”
She knew Cowboy had no way to reach Noah now that he was out of the chopper and away from its radio. Cell phone service hadn’t been restored. She had the information he needed to find Noah and Brady.
They were playing chicken, staring at each other as the plane shot through the sky toward her child.
He relented. “Get a jumpsuit on. Over there. You ever jump out of a plane before?”
“No.”
He cursed again. “Then you’ll come with me, tandem.” He moved to the skydiving equipment in a large crate, handing her a jumpsuit and goggles and changing out his harness. “You have to hurry. We don’t have a lot of time until we’re over the drop zone.”
Cowboy wasn’t kidding. No sooner did she get the suit on than he was rigging up her harness and barking orders on how to hold her body, which would be strapped directly to his.
She didn’t let herself think about what she was about to do, focusing only on her son’s face as the green light lit and the side of the fuselage opened to the dark sky.
She stepped with Cowboy’s steps. He tapped her shoulder three times and pushed her forward, jumping out of the plane. She closed her throat against the scream that wanted to come up and closed her eyes. There was only Brady’s face.
Brady’s face—and Noah’s.